


death doesn't discriminate

by volunteer_of_hufflepuff



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Drabble, F/M, Heavy Angst, Nymphadora Tonks Lives, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Sad, really sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volunteer_of_hufflepuff/pseuds/volunteer_of_hufflepuff
Summary: There is one person who was supposed to fight in the Battle of Hogwarts but couldn't; who got there when the battle had just ceased.Now Tonks, no matter how cheerful Voldemort's downfall might be, wishes she was never there at all.





	death doesn't discriminate

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: sad. Very sad. Inspired by one of my favourite quotes, which as at the start!

__

  _Death doesn't discriminate_

_between the sinner_

_and the saint._

~.~

She was too late.

It was over.

And so were too many peoples' lives.

As she strode into the Great Hall, the first thing she noticed was Voldemort's fallen body.

Dead.

Finally.

But why wasn't her heart singing?

Harry was crushed on a table next to Luna Lovegood; oh god, the expression on his face was painfully bittersweet.

_Eat bitter, taste sweet._

Victories like this don't come without countless sacrifices.

And she can't see-

Is he-

She hopes not.

But she knows her husband; knows how he's out of practice, his skills crumbling away in hiding, his selflessness, great bravery and sacrifice during battle.

And it was a battle.

The pillars have crumbled.

Partially - like their world.

Seemingly irreparable, irredeemable.

How could all of this loss ever be good?

Scattered cobblestones.

Bloodstains.

Molly Weasley sobbing into her handkerchief.

Merlin, the  _Weasleys -_

One or more of them must be gone.

Not Ginny. Or Ron. Those, she can spot.

But still not her husband.

She should approach someone who was here for the battle.

Someone not stopped by their son's cries, damn it, she was supposed to be an _Auror_ -

But she couldn't regret staying to soothe him.

But what if this cold dread is confirmed?

That her husband really is-

No. She can't contemplate it. He is 38, not ancient.

"Harry," she says tentatively, but she can't bring herself to outright ask if Remus is dead, "what happened?"

Harry looks up at her, dazed; as if he was about to escape this crowd, the noise, the cheers of those who had not lost someone and the tears of those who had.

"We fought. We won. Tonks, aren't you supposed to be-"

"I am. But I couldn't stay. Looks like I'm too late."

She fails to suppress a watery laugh. "Anything good?"

"Voldemort's dead," he says, pointing at the body that Charlie - thank God - and Woods is carrying out of the hall.

"Obviously. Who else?"

Harry exhales slowly. "Bellatrix. Molly killed her. You missed quite the show."

"Did I?" Tonks asks, fiddling with her ring. "That's a pity."

"I know there are more Death Eaters dead. Probably not proportionate to our losses, especially with all of the students."

"Oh."  _That would have crushed Remus,_ she thinks.

"Antonin Dolohov," he says next, and Tonks thinks it oddly specific; she hasn't crossed paths with him before and neither, to her knowledge, has Harry.

"Ok," she says, the anticipation filling her up with ice.

"By Flitwick. But... before Flitwick killed him, Dolohov killed someone else."

_No._

_Don't say it,_ she internally begs,  _don't say it it's not true he's fine-_

"I'm so sorry, Tonks," he says next, and there is immense sincerity in his tone, "Remus is dead."

A choked sob escapes Tonks and she flees the room as if that will change anything, somehow not stumbling over the jagged cobblestones as she runs.

_He's dead._

_He's gone and I wasn't here-_

Her husband is dead. But she has a son to look after.

She has to carry on.

Remus was a saint - he gave until there was nothing left.

But if death took Bellatrix on the same night, couldn't it have left her husband alone?

Yet death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints.

And death cuts, and cuts, until there is nothing.

But you carry on.

(Somehow.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
